


unconscious

by hito_ritabi



Series: lingEr [9]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Unconsciousness, injured, tired traveller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 18:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6764509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hito_ritabi/pseuds/hito_ritabi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cyril goes unconscious after Hiero comes out of the Insanity state.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unconscious

Hiero grit his teeth, clenching his jaw as tight as he could. The air was cold as he sucked in between his teeth, numbing them. Dirt stuck to his damp skin, his hair disheveled around his eyes, poofing in ways not characteristic of him. He was hunching over Cyril, struggling to breathe. Every second that passed, his chest tried to cave in and he'd start to cry, but inhaling stopped the motion enough for him to hold control. Hiero tried to focus his eyes through the saturated colors he was seeing – greens and yellows pooled together with white beneath him, then the beautiful blue of Cyril's hair and then … red. That's what kept making Hiero stop, his body shivering as he was taking pains to not move. He was starting to feel his arms shake now, the wet dirt seeping against his knees.

 

“It'll be okay, Hiero.” came Cyril's voice to his ears. It sounded husky and almost labored, but the musical tone of it sounded like Cyril: soothing and calm.

 

As Hiero's jaw remain clenched, the urge to cry still strong, his eyes focused enough to see the blurred color mass beneath him. Cyril was bleeding from several cuts on his face, one above his eye was a gash. There were splotches of red on the grass beneath him, and staining his white uniform. Hiero didn't need to see more to realize what had happened – he had attacked Cyril in the _insanity_ and hurt him, badly.

 

“Don't stress out and cry, all right?” Cyril said in a soothing manner, a smile almost coming to the left corner of his lips. Hiero gasped finally letting out strained air, then he took in an immediate breath with a whine. “Be good for a little… while.” Cyril continued as he shut his eyes, too tired to stay awake anymore.

 

Hiero froze. He waited a few seconds, then his lungs forced himself to take another breath after gasping out the air he held, then he held his breath again. This repeated several times, until Hiero was so horrified he suddenly stood up off of Cyril and backed away several feet. He clenched his arms in close to his chest, a frown carved onto his face. He couldn't even discern if he was still wearing his shoes or not anymore, he was so panicked.

 

Trying to remain calm, Hiero relaxed his eyes a bit and squeaked out softly, “Cyril?”

 

Cyril didn't move it looked like.

 

Hiero forced himself to hold his breath as he tried to lean in closer to see if Cyril was breathing. The tears and fresh feeling of the  _insanity_ was making it difficult to tell. He tried to be quiet, trying to listen. There were no sounds of birds chirping, or any life nearby even though this was a simple grassy area. There should be some other sounds, but nothing came. The silence was loud, numbing Hiero's ears even more.

 

“Cyril?” Hiero asked, almost softer now. He took a step away, then stepped around to the other side of Cyril's body. “Cyril..?”

 

Terror struck over him. Hiero couldn't hold it anymore. All the air he'd been holding now burst out as he screamed, closing his eyes tight. He felt a surge of energy spurt through him as he did so. When he opened his eyes, Hiero saw the shocks of lightning spurting forth around on the ground around him in a wide circle – all avoiding Cyril's body. Seeing that the electricity and scream hadn't woken him up, scared Hiero even more. Hiero caved in on himself, screaming again. Once more, starting in his face, white pale lines drew themselves quickly down his skin to the grass, then lightning shot off of him and around into the grass.

 

Hiero backed up from Cyril, falling to his knees, and cried for a bit. Once he'd exhausted himself, Hiero stood up and on his very woobly legs, toddled over to Cyril's side, where he collapsed next to him.

 

“There's a town just over the ridge, right?” Hiero asked, reaching over Cyril's body to his arms and moved him around to sit upright. “I'll get you there.” He said, and carefully eased Cyril onto his back.

 

It was an interesting feat considering Hiero was so weak and tired, and physically smaller than Cyril. He struggled to hold Cyril's wrist down in front of his chest while his other arm looped around behind to hold up Cyril's ribs to his back. Like this, he moved forward in half steps, leading with the left foot. It was a strange toddle at best, and every movement seemed labored to Hiero.

 

“Just… stay alive, please.” Hiero begged as he started up the gentle incline of the grassy hill, which now felt like a steep staircase. He wobbled to the left and right every few steps, trying to balance Cyril's weight on his back. After several minutes, he'd have to lean farther forward, getting more hunched each time.

 

“Don't fall over, now.” Hiero told himself as he recognized that soon Cyril's weight on his back might overtake him.

 

It took barely an hour to reach the town, but the change from grass to the dirt road was difficult. Hiero suddenly became aware he was barefoot; dragging his feet was no longer an option, and lifting them became a chore each time. Thoroughly exhausted, going through the main street just past the opening arch of the town, Hiero looked up while hunched over, to read the signs dotting the edges of the road. His fingers felt numb as they clinged to Cyril's jacket and wrist desperately. Everything hurt.

 

Staring with his mouth open at a sign, Hiero couldn't even read it – it was letters he recognized – but his mind was too tired to discern anything. A few moments passed before a man stepped next to Hiero. “Let me take him,” the man said with open arms, leaning down a bit so his face was easier for Hiero to look at when addressed. Hiero looked the man over, still gaping. He had dark chestnut hair, was dressed in something like a uniform – a white long-sleeved shirt, strange stripes going vertically, and then dark pants. His eyes were a pale sage green that reminded Hiero of Cyril's eye color. When the man reached to take Cyril from him, Hiero took a step away from him. “It's okay.” the man said soothingly to him as if Hiero were a scared child, “The hospital's just a block away.” Hiero shook his head with his chin, making the man smile reassuringly. “Follow me there.” He said. He straightened up and took a few steps away from Hiero, then stopped and turned to see if Hiero was following.

 

Easily understanding this direction, Hiero started after the man slowly, his toddle wobbling as his knees were starting to feel like putty after standing still for so long. Once Hiero was a step from the man, the man walked ahead a few more feet and waited. Each time Hiero'd catch up, the man would lead him. After five minutes, they turned a corner and started toward a white building with large windows along its sides. Hiero didn't get a chance to look in the windows, or gaze up at how tall it was, using all of his energy to keep his eyes open.

 

_Keep it together._ Hiero told himself as they went. Every few seconds, he struggled to keep his eyes open, and when they were held open too long, the hue of the  _insanity_ would start to kick in. Walking with his eyes shut didn't help, as he felt his legs buckle each time, about ready to fall underneath Cyril's weight. Hiero glanced down to his hand holding Cyril's wrist, noticing that farther, on his bare feet, the white glyphs of his power were shuddering in and out of appearing – they'd fade to glow, albeit dim, and then fade completely out of sight, before slowing coming back. Hiero took in a sharp breath, looking up to the man leading him. The man just tilted his head at Hiero when he saw the concerned look in his gray eyes, but didn't show any sign of seeing the glowing glyphs – but he must have.

 

Once inside the building, the man led Hiero through the wide open lobby, down a quiet and empty hall with no patients in it, and into one of the stay-over exam rooms. The man helped Hiero get Cyril onto the bed, laying on his back, and then pulled up the guest chair for Hiero to sit in. The room was plain: a bed, a chair, a small desk and cabinet with a sink to the side for examining, and then a curtain for the door. The man drew the curtain shut, nodded to Hiero, “I'll be right back.” He spoke with that continual tone of understanding and then left the room.

 

Hiero looked from the curtain to Cyril's resting face. Even though he was in the town now, everything sounded silent and muddled. The scents of people around him were drowned out by the smell of blood stuck in his clothes and Cyril's. Hiero dropped his head suddenly, closing his eyes, straight into his hand to catch it. The world shook– it jarred up-left, then back up-right, turning as if it were being swung by a pendulum and Hiero himself was water. Gagging from the sudden movement, Hiero let out a horrendous sound. He tasted iron in his mouth and then something immediately sour. He rolled forward head-first, onto his hands and knees, pushed his forehead against the ground, and spat out the vomit. He gasped then whined immediately as the scent entered his nose.

 

“Here.” said the man.

 

Hiero turned his head to the side. The man was kneeling next to him with a cup of water – mainly the cup was all Hiero could see and focus on. As Hiero shifted back onto his butt, swinging his legs haphazardly in front of him, he simultaneously took the paper cup from the man, and as soon as his back was against the ledge of the bed, he took a drink of the cool liquid. It felt sharp against his parched throat, but it was so cold, it felt good. Hiero let out a long breath after finishing his drink, and then took another sip, and then another until it was empty.

 

“He appears to not have lost a lot of blood to be in danger. I'll patch him up though, and we'll let him rest overnight.” came a woman's voice.

 

Hiero looked up, then around, and then turned to see a woman in a white dress and a white lab coat standing over Cyril. He immediately recognized her as a doctor – a person that normally stuck needles in him. Hiero stumbled a bit back away from her as she looked over Cyril's torso, having opened his jacket and shirt.

 

“Could you bring him some protein and a banana? Easy chewing should be good for when he wakes up.” she asked the man, then she looked down to Hiero. “You don't look hurt, though?” She frowned, kneeling down to look at Hiero's face. Hiero leaned back away from her with wide eyes. He couldn't make out any distinct features on her face at all – nothing bur blurs of colors.

 

_Am I just too tired or is it the Insanity?_

 

“I think this one just needs rest.” she said, apparently smiling, as she straightened. “I'll bring in a blanket for him.”

 

Hiero watched as the woman walked back around the table to the cabinet, pulled out some gauze and bandages, and then started to tend to Cyril's wounds. Too afraid to see what they were, Hiero shifted until he was cross-legged and stayed still on the floor. After a few minutes, he jumped when a blanket got draped around his shoulders by the man. Hiero rubbed his eyes, then looked up to the man's face. He looked about Cyril's age, and kind, but nothing Hiero could pick out as distinct.

 

“Just rest. You look really tired.” the man said to him. Hiero looked past the man up at Cyril's form on the bed, but didn't move. “She'll be done soon.”

 

“He's okay?” Hiero asked, turning his head to look up at the man. The man got a surprised look on his face that Hiero actually spoke to him, but nodded with a smile. Hiero looked slowly, almost having to move his head mechanically, back in Cyril's direction. After a moment he asked, “Will he wake up?”

 

“Of course. He's just exhausted, hungry, and lost blood.” The woman answered bluntly, but in a professionally 'nice' tone. “Nothing some rest and food won't cure.”


End file.
